


Wedding

by AutisticWriter



Category: The Fast Show
Genre: Canon Gay Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Friendship, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Multi, Nervousness, One Shot, POV First Person, POV Outsider, Sickfic, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-14 00:19:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9148477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutisticWriter/pseuds/AutisticWriter
Summary: Sophie meets Ted and Ralph at an old school friend's wedding, but things don't go to plan.





	

I’m not sure how this has happened, but I’ve found myself at an old school friend’s wedding, and, even though I don’t really want to be here, I guess I’ve just got to deal with it. Entering the church, I take a seat in the back row, smiling weakly at the few people whom I recognise from school all those years ago.

Unlike the rest of the crammed church, the back seat is strangely deserted, with only two men sat in a pew that could fit up to ten people. The men draw my attention, especially when I realise that everyone in the church must be avoiding them. They are a curious pair; there must be twenty years between them in age, yet I don’t think they’re related, as they don’t look remotely alike, despite being dressed in identical black suits.

I am sat next to the younger of the two. I can instantly tell that he isn’t very well. His reddy-brown hair is sticking to his forehead with sweat, his face is very pale, and he is visibly shivering, his teeth chattering together. He slumps back against the pew as if he doesn’t have the strength to sit up by himself. I feel so sorry for him that I decide to look at his companion instead.

The older man looks much healthier, but appears to be in a bad mood, like he doesn’t want to be here. He has greying mutton chop sideburns and the rest of his face is covered in stubble, as though he forgot to shave this morning. The only difference in his attire with the younger man is that he is wearing a flat cap on his head. And, most interestingly of all, he is staring at the younger man with a look of anxiety and compassion, and I can tell that he feels sorry for him too.

I kind of want to introduce myself, so, with an awkward air, I clear my throat and shuffle along the pew towards them.

“Hello,” I say, trying to hide my anxiety. “My name’s Sophie. How do you two know the bride? I went to school with her.”

The younger man smiles at me, as though I’m the first person who has spoken to him since he got here. It makes me sad when I realise that I probably am.

“I’m Ralph,” he says, holding out his hand for me to shake. I do, and I find his palm boiling hot and horribly sweaty. “She’s my second cousin. And this,” he gestures towards the older man, “is Ted. He’s my plus one, and he’s my...”

Ralph trails off and turns to look at Ted, his eyes wide. Ted smiles reassuringly and leans around Ralph to look at me.

“Partner,” he says boldly, in a surprisingly Irish voice. “I’m his partner.”

There is an almost defiant tone to Ted’s voice, as though he is expecting to have to argue with me. But I smile, and they both visibly relax. Well, this certainly explains why no one else is talking to them. From what I remember of my home town, no one was ever exactly liberal. Which is why, as the ceremony goes along, Ted and Ralph spend the whole time holding hands, but only so I can see. I hate to see them having to hide their relationship, but I don’t know how to help. I just wish everyone would stop being so bloody bigoted.

\---

I next see Ted and Ralph back at the reception. They’re coming out of the men’s toilets, and I can immediately tell that something isn’t right. Ted is supporting most of Ralph’s weight, with his arm around his waist. Ralph is stumbling as he walks and looks even paler than earlier; I’m slightly concerned that he might faint. Ralph is no longer wearing his tie, and Ted has his sleeves rolled up. Wanting to help, I go over to them.

“Are you two all right?” I ask. My voice shakes, and I wish I could give my anxiety a kick in the arse at times like this.

“The poor sod’s been sick,” Ted says, his voice straining as he struggles to support the larger man.

“Ted,” Ralph moans, sounding embarrassed.

“Bloody hell!” I say. “You poor thing.”

“’M all right,” Ralph mumbles, and Ted looks as disbelieving as I feel.

But, despite clearly not agreeing with Ralph, Ted doesn’t argue with him. Instead, his voice is kind and sympathetic (and still strained from trying to keep Ralph upright) as he says, “Let’s get you sat down, then, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Ralph says, and he gives Ted a brief, yet loving smile.

“Can I help?” I ask.

“Please do,” Ted says, sounding relieved.

Smiling at them both, I take Ralph’s arm and help Ted steer him towards an empty table not too far from the toilets. We ease him into a chair and sit down either side of him, worried that, given how wobbly he is, he might fall off his chair otherwise.

“Thank you,” Ralph gasps, breathing heavily, sweat running down his face.

“Thanks for the help,” Ted says, and he starts rubbing Ralph’s back.

“It’s nothing,” I say, looking down at the floor.

“It isn’t ‘nothing’,” Ted insists, his voice softening. “You’re the only person in this whole fecking building who decided to help. Thank you.”

I smile, my face flushing. “Thanks.”

Ralph groans and hunches forwards in his seat, wrapping his arms around his abdomen.

“I feel awful, Ted,” Ralph mutters.

“I can tell,” Ted says, and he sighs, still rubbing Ralph’s back.

\---              

As everyone else in the hall gets up and dances, Ted, Ralph and I are still sat at our table in the corner, watching them. I’m not jealous; I hate dancing. I wonder if Ralph and Ted like to dance.

Ralph, who threw up again a few minutes ago, is slumped against Ted, his face even sweatier than earlier.

“I knew we should’ve stayed at home, sir,” Ted says.

I frown. Sir? Why would he call him that?

“Sir?” Ralph says, bemused.

“I mean, Ralph,” Ted corrects himself, his face going red. “Sorry.”

“Never mind,” Ralph says, slurring slightly, and he puts his hand on Ted’s.

Ted sees me looking at him and raises his eyebrows. “Force of habit.”

I nod, presuming he means he used to work for Ralph but doesn’t any more, but hasn’t quite got used to not calling him ‘sir’. Yes, that’s probably it.

\---

After Ralph pukes for the fifth time in two hours, Ted decides that staying at this reception isn’t going to work.

“And imagine what that bloody bride would do if you threw up anywhere near her,” Ted says. “She’d go mental.”

Ralph smiles. “Yes, she would, wouldn’t she?”

“So do you think we should go home?” Ted says, and I realise he’s talking to both of us.

“It’s probably for the best,” I say, and Ralph nods.

“Right then,” Ted says, and he claps his hands together. “Let’s get you home, Ralph.”

\---

Once we have finally reached the car park, all three of us are out of breath; Ralph because he’s ill, and Ted and I from having to take Ralph’s weight for him. After stopping to catch our breath, I help Ted get Ralph onto the back of their Moped. He sways unsteadily for a few seconds, but looks much better when he wraps his arms around Ted’s chest to keep himself in place. He presses the side of his face against Ted’s back and looks at me. He smiles.

“Thank you, Sophie,” he says, his exhaustion audible in his voice.

I smile and give Ralph’s shoulder a pat. “It’s nothing.”

Ted looks at me, and he manages to look both firm and grateful as he says, “No, really, thank you.”

I smile weakly, feeling my cheeks flush.

And then I wave as they drive off, hoping I’ll get to meet Ted and Ralph again.


End file.
